


The Chase to End All Time

by kokkyx



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kokkyx/pseuds/kokkyx
Summary: A super short, slightly more "romantic" rewrite of the cliff scene.





	The Chase to End All Time

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted a little more from the cliff scene so I decided to do it myself, for style practice and whatnot. Also, shoutout to Siouxsie Sioux for singing the masterpiece that is "Love Crime."

Against the gunmetal sky, Hannibal stood, arms outstretched to help Will to his feet.

Staggering to join Hannibal at the top of the rocks, Will latched on to any part of Hannibal that he could find to pull himself up.

Tides crashed and the wind howled through Will’s ears, but all he could hear was the sound of his own hitched breathing, and Hannibal’s “See?”

Hannibal’s hands found their way to Will’s upper arms, and the two locked eyes, Will’s slightly glazed over from shock and blood loss, Hannibal’s as clear as ever.

Panting, Will opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words drowned in the blood that filled his mouth, the taste of iron poisoning his tongue. After ripping Dolarhyde’s knife out of his cheek, a constant, sharp pain had spread across his face and burned beneath his skin. As for his shoulder, the same ache crept like a thousand tiny creatures just below the surface, itching and clawing to be free.

“This is all I ever wanted for you, Will.” Hannibal murmured, one hand sliding down to Will’s waist, the other trailing all the way down to his hand, lacing their fingers together and bringing their arms up. “For both of us.”

Cracking a paper-thin smile, Will tightened his grip on Hannibal’s hand and shoulder, steadying himself enough to cough out the words: “it’s beautiful.”

Beautiful, like the jet-black tides that Will could see crashing below them. Like the pale moonlight that broke through the sparse clouds and illuminated the rocks and trees that lined the edge. Like Dolarhyde’s blood spreading through the cracks in the stones beneath his lifeless body, wings spreading for the final time. Like the relief painted on Hannibal’s half-lidded eyes as the moon cast delicate rays of blue-green through his hair and rested on the sharp slopes of his cheekbones.

Shoes scraping softly against the rocks on which they stood, Hannibal began to move, closing the space between them. A soft breath slipped past his parted lips as Will was pressed against the gunshot wound in his abdomen, but he carried on, leading them in gentle, practiced steps. Hannibal’s blood seeped through his own shirt and spread onto Will’s, joining the Pollock painting of crimson that stained the fabric.

As they swept across the dead leaves and gravel in easy circles, Will began to pay less and less attention to each pained gasp that escaped him, and every razor-edged breeze stinging the deep gash in his face, and more attention to how at peace he felt. Despite his clumsy footsteps and paling complexion, Will felt alive, chest to chest with Hannibal, breathing in time with one another.

Hannibal leaned down, pressing his forehead to Will’s, sweat-slicked and plastered with his curls. “We would have made a formidable partnership.” He said, receiving a simple hum in response. For a moment Hannibal closed his eyes, taking in the pungent scent of copper and cologne, Will’s trademark smell at this point, not that Hannibal minded. In fact, he wondered what it would have been like to smell that cheap cologne for more than just a few short hours each day. Even through prison bars, no matter what side he was on, one whiff and Hannibal could picture Will standing in the river, fishing, or sitting with his dogs, grinning and attempting to pet each one equally, or best of all, sitting on Hannibal’s desk, rifling through old books, returning Hannibal’s obscure analogies without missing a beat. He thought he had dreamed up nearly every future the two of them could have shared, but this was not one of them. “I wish I could have seen it.”

Will knit his eyebrows together, feeling Hannibal squeeze his waist gingerly. Anxiety was building up in his gut, churning his insides into a swirling mess. He was familiar with the feeling. “Me too.” Will whispered, not realizing how hoarse his voice had gotten, and not knowing whether it was due to the sheer amount of blood he had swallowed or the lump forming in his throat. Eventually their steps had become so mindless that Will almost didn’t realize that they had stopped moving, which brought back all of Will’s physical feelings like a landslide, the soreness that plagued his body and the lightheadedness that made him doubt he could stand up much longer.

When their footsteps ceased, the silence, broken only by the crashing of waves, pressed in, suffocating what little either of them could breathe already. Will pictured the coastline ripping through the water, just below the cliff, scarred by jagged rocks, beaten and caved-in by the relentless sea. The thought made his heart pound, and he knew there was only one way this could end. One way he could put a finish to both of them once and for all. He had beaten death once, and he didn’t plan on doing it again.

Unlacing their fingers, Will threw his arms around Hannibal’s neck, allowing his head to rest in the crook of Hannibal’s shoulder and feeling him settle both hands around his waist, keeping them locked together.

When Will took a step forward, pushing them towards the edge, Hannibal opened his mouth to speak, "I've changed my mind," he said, his voice impossibly calm. “If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time.”

Will gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, taking another step, clenching desperately at the fabric of Hannibal’s shirt.

Without resistance, Hannibal let Will lead him backwards, following him until he felt open air beneath his heel and a sudden harsh wind whipping up against his back.

“I’m sorry, Hannibal. We don’t get forever.” Will said, his voice shaking just as much as he was.

Hannibal placed a kiss on the top of Will’s matted hair as he took the final step back into nothingness. “I know.”


End file.
